It Began With A Purple Potion
by Akorah
Summary: Hermione and Ginny are hiding from the Inquisitorial Squad when a purple mist knocks them out. They wake up to find Dumbledore reinstated-and James Potter alive. Can they change the future, or will they discover the truth about the past? Starts mid-OotP
1. The Purple Potion

**Disclaimer:** I am not Joanne Rowling, or a representative of Scholastic, Bloomsbury, or Warner Bros. I know it's sad, but I think I'll make it through. These characters belong to the people who get paid.

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**A/N:** This is my not first attempt at a Harry era/Marauder era fic, but it is my first decent attempt. Be warned: this is not AU, at least at the moment. If I decide to launch into the realm of endless possibilities, I'll let you know. If I get tired of writing this fic, I will let you know. I will not leave you hanging but—_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_.

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**CHAPTER ONE: The Purple Potion**

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Fierce footsteps pounded through the second floor corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. An angry brunette ran for cover in an empty classroom, where she could hide behind desks with her wand at the ready. All she needed to do was wait for _him_ to walk in.

A smaller girl flew through the door of the classroom and dove under a desk. She swore with words only a girl with older brothers would know as she reached for her wand.

"Ginny?" the brunette whispered.

"Hermione?" the smaller girl answered back.

"What are you doing here?" they chorused.

"Malfoy," Hermione growled. She mentally ran through a list of hexes that could make the boy itch for a week.

The redhead snorted. "Malfoy's a piece of cake. Four angry Ravenclaws aren't so easy to fend off."

"How did you get four Ravenclaws mad?" Hermione asked. She knew she shouldn't have been in awe, but awe was the only word that came to mind.

"For some reason, they don't like being slipped Canary Creams just before Quidditch practice. I've had the Keeper chasing me about the halls all morning." She picked a yellow feather off her robes and waved it at Hermione.

"But I thought whoever ate the Canary Creams molted and went back to normal," Hermione replied in confusion.

"Turns out that if you use a Stunning Spell on the pastries before they're eaten, the effects can last for nearly an hour." Ginny giggled raucously as her devious prank.

Hermione groaned. "Tell me you haven't shared this information with Fred and George."

"I owled them as soon as I figured it out," Ginny replied with a smirk.

Rustling could be heard outside of the classroom. The girls quieted and watched to see which of their foes opened the door. As it creaked open, they counted to three and jumped up to meet the opponent, hexes flying without a single thought.

Cho Chang fell back from the door, a rather unfortunate pair of bat wings sprouting from her face. As she squealed and ran off down the corridor, the Gryffindors giggled and congratulated each other on the victory.

"Think you're so smart, besting a Ravenclaw?" drawled the familiar tones of Draco Malfoy. "Just wait until Professor Umbridge sees what you've done."

"What? Are you too afraid to take on two Gryffindors alone, Malfoy?" Ginny taunted.

Hermione picked up the taunt, hoping that Umbridge would come as Malfoy tried to hex them. "Are you sure the Sorting Hat chose properly? I think I'm sensing a misplaced Hufflepuff." She hated to degrade another House by insulting Malfoy, but at this point she was willing to do anything to get rid of the damned Inquisitorial Squad.

Malfoy's pale cheeks pinked at the insinuation. "Oh, I've got something special just for you, Granger. " He pulled a vial from his pocket and whispered into his hand. The vial glowed gold then red and finally purple. He whispered a second short incantation as Hermione began to feel nerves taking over. She exchanged a distrusting look with Ginny.

"Expell—" the younger girl began, but she was cut off by the sound of breaking glass and the slamming of the door. A purple haze began to fill the room. The girls did their best not to inhale, but it was no use. The vapors overcame them and they slipped out of consciousness.

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". . . Black is not going to stay another night in this infirmary. He is well rested and in need of _schooling_, not the molly-coddling you provide here." A snappish male voice unfamiliar to Hermione's ears rang through the room. She awoke slowly, only vaguely aware of the throbbing headache that was settling in.

"I do not molly-coddle, Mr. Potter! I give these students the best care they can receive outside of St. Mungo's. If I say that Sirius Black is still unable to attend class, then he is still unable to attend class." An extremely familiar female voice cut through the air with a ring of authority Hermione knew well. She relaxed into her bed, comforted by the familiarity of the Hospital Wing. At least Malfoy wouldn't be able to hex her without going through Madame Pomfrey first.

She awoke hours later and opened her eyes for the first time since she'd fallen unconscious in the empty second floor classroom. The Hospital Wing looked blissfully secure and Umbridge free. A few other beds were occupied, but she wasn't surprised. Cho would probably be in need of plastic surgery after the Bat-Bogey Hex Ginny had kindly thrown.

Hermione sat up slowly, willing her head not to pound as she looked around the beds for Ginny. As her eyes finally adjusted to the dim lighting, she found her friend sound asleep in the next bed.

"Ginny! Gin!" she whispered. She leaned over as far as she dared. "Ginny!"

The redhead opened drowsy eyes. "What, Herm?"

"How long have we been in here?"

Ginny rolled over, taking in the room with tired interest. "I dunno. Did that potion knock us out?"

"I think so."

"I'm going to curse Malfoy to hell and back the next time I see his slimy little face," Ginny growled.

"Look on the bright side. Madame Pomfrey stands between us and Umbridge."

A grunt told Hermione that Ginny didn't particularly care as she was exhausted and in need of several more hours of sleep. Hermione sighed and slipped back under the sheets, resting her throbbing head against the crisp infirmary pillow. A brief thought crossed her mind about the dream she'd had as she awakened the first time, but like most dreams, it slipped away as she fell back into a deep slumber.

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**A/N**: Critical reviews are welcomed! Oh, and does anyone know Ginny's birthday or Hermione's parents' names? Those would be extremely helpful as I don't have access to the books at the moment.


	2. Hazel Eyes

**Disclaimer: **If I were JK Rowling (and I'm not), I would still be posting this _fan_fic. I mean, an author's gotta be a fan of her own work, right? Maybe that's just me . . . still not JK Rowling.

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**A/N:** This one is pretty short, but no worries! Ch3 will be up soon! In the meanwhilst, thank you for the lovely reviews.

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**CHAPTER TWO: Hazel Eyes**

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"Her eyes are fluttering." A hesitant voice sounded almost triumphant as Hermione came to consciousness the next morning. The voice sounded familiar, like one she'd known briefly in the distant past.

"Thank you, Mr. Black," Madame Pomfrey huffed. She moved quickly around the Hospital Wing and Hermione soon became aware of being forced into an upright position. "Open up," she said fiercely. Hermione knew better than to argue and felt a hot potion slide down her throat. She choked as the thick medicine moved slowly. "Excellent."

Finally, Hermione opened her eyes, invigorated by the potion. Sunlight streamed in through the infirmary windows, making the room look sterile yet welcoming. Next to the library, the Hospital Wing was Hermione's favorite escape.

"How long was I out?" she croaked. The crotchety sound of her voice made her jump. She must have been out for awhile.

"Two days and thirteen hours since we found you," Madame Pomfrey answered promptly. "You and the other girl have been asleep all but two hours of your stay and those hours you were awake, you were hardly lucid." The nurse sent a nervous glance to Ginny's still sleeping figure. "She had a harder time waking up than you."

"Is she going to be okay?"

"Probably. Can you tell me what happened to you girls?"

Hermione thought back to her argument with Malfoy and the confrontation in the abandoned classroom. "Some sort of potion, I think. Malfoy pulled it out of his pocket and cursed it before he threw it at us. The vial shattered and then there was a purple haze. The next thing I knew, I woke up here and Ginny was asleep in the bed next to me."

Madame Pomfrey took in the information with a curious expression. "Malfoy, you said?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'll have someone send word to the Headmaster right away. In the meanwhile, I would like you to eat something. It will do no good to have you waste away before you regain all of your faculties."

Madame Pomfrey's words sent a chill of doubt through Hermione's body. "Headmaster? Dumbledore? He's back?"

The nurse gave Hermione an odd look. "Yes, he arrived back from the Ministry this morning." With that, she rushed into her office, hardly pausing to check Ginny's status.

A rowdy group barged into the Hospital Wing, the doors flying backwards in its wake. The boys laughed and cheered as they headed over to one of the other occupied beds. Hermione was too busy pondering Dumbledore's sudden return to Hogwarts to notice that the boys awoke her sleeping friend.

"Herm?" Ginny croaked in the same voice of disuse Hermione had used.

"Ginny! You're awake!"

The redhead yawned and stretched gingerly. "What time is it?"

"I don't know, but apparently we were out for two and a half days."

Ginny gaped at her. "What? No way! I'm going to hex that slimy git—first I'll use the Bat-Bogey, then 'll go for a round of Jellylegs, and then I'll hex him again with the Bat-Bogey—by the time I'm done, his own mother won't recognize him!"

The Hospital Wing had fallen quiet, and Hermione became very aware of the four boys staring at Ginny. It took a moment longer, but the younger girl realized the attention and stopped ranting. "He just gets under my skin," she conceded loudly. She sent a glare at the boys, which set them off in a whirl of whispers.

"Good to see you're awake, girls," Madame Pomfrey announced. She shoved the same awful potion down Ginny's throat before she continued talking. "If you are feeling able to walk, the Headmaster would like to see you in his office. He feels that the Hospital Wing is too . . . public." She said the last word with obvious distaste. Hermione knew that Madame Pomfrey hated any of her charges leaving the infirmary without being in the best of health.

"The Headmaster?" Ginny squealed as she attempted to stand. "Dumbledore's back?"

"Apparently he returned this morning." Hermione still couldn't puzzle out how so much had changed in the course of two days.

Ginny glanced at Madame Pomfrey's retreating back. "You would think she would be more excited. I bet that means Umbridge is gone."

"I hope so." Hermione let Ginny lean on her as they headed for the door of the Hospital Wing. As her mind got back into motion, she found herself more than a little upset that she'd seen no sign of her two best friends. "I wonder where Har—"

"Let me get that for you!" A young man roughly their age bounded over to the door, pushing his spectacles up his nose as he reached for the handle.

Hermione stopped in her tracks. "It's about time you showed up, Harry. . . ." As the words left her mouth, she saw confusion flicker across the boy's face. She searched his eyes, sure her own were playing tricks. Hazel irises sat beneath the glasses in place of the familiar green. Suspicion snuck up on Hermione and she shook Ginny lightly. "We really need to get to Dumbledore's office."

"It was nice to meet you," the boy called after them.

"Did Harry just say it was nice to meet us?" Ginny mumbled.

"I don't think that was Harry."


	3. 1975

**Disclaimer:** I don't even live in England.

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**A/N:** I'm trying to make this as canon as possible, but I may be forced to depart from that soon. In other news, I've been hit by the flu, so later chapters may be a tad delayed.

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**CHAPTER THREE: 1975**

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The office was filled with trinkets, the likes of which Hermione had never seen. Portraits of long dead headmasters hung on the wall, echoing whispers as the girls waited quietly for Dumbledore to join them. Hermione played nervously with the hem of her shirt, unsettled by the encounter with the boy who looked far too much like Harry to be a coincidence.

The elderly headmaster stepped into the room and glanced over his half moon spectacles at the girls. Hermione saw a twinkle in his eyes that caused her to tense rather than settle down. "You two have caused quite the stir over the last few days."

"Why is that, sir?" Hermione asked. Her voice shook as she spoke.

"When two young witches appear seemingly out of nowhere, inexplicably unconscious, people tend to talk. Tell me, how exactly did you two get here?"

Ginny, in her fog, still didn't seem to understand what was happening. "We came on the Hogwarts Express, like everyone else. Professor, what is going on?"

"Curious," he whispered. "I expect that you're a Weasley, am I correct?"

The redhead seemed affronted. "Sir, I'm Ginny Weasley. You know me. I practically spent the last term of my second year in this office talking to you."

Hermione took a less bold approach. "Sir . . . what year is it?" she asked, her voice hardly above a whisper.

Understanding dawned in his eyes. Ginny looked back and forth between the two, desperate to understand. "What year do you think it is?" he replied.

"It's 1996," Ginny answered instantly.

The headmaster shook his head. "I'm afraid you two have stumbled across a magic that runs deeper than time. It is 1975, Miss . . . Weasley."

"James," Hermione muttered, shell-shocked by the revelation. "That boy was James."

Ginny's mouth dropped open. "James? You mean James Potter? That was James Potter?"

"Is Mr. Potter someone of significance?" Dumbledore asked. Hermione did her best not to gape at him, reminding herself that he didn't yet know of the Potters' tragic fate.

"His name commonly comes up in the future," she said, attempting to be as vague as she possible. She was beginning to understand modern-day Dumbledore, with all of the secrets he carried. She knew the fates of several people and held the responsibility of keeping them all to herself.

"You look weary, Miss. . . ?"

"Granger," she replied. "Hermione Granger, fifth year Gryffindor. Ginny is a fourth year, also in Gryffindor. I think we have a fifth year Slytherin to thank for our trip. Or we will have one to thank, when he's born five years from now."

"Granger. That's not a name I've heard in these walls. Are you. . . ?"

"Muggleborn," she affirmed. "And still the brightest in my year, according to you."

"I assume you'll be wanting to head back to your home as soon as possible?"

Hermione and Ginny exchanged a look. "I—I think that would be wise," Hermione said, although the possibility of getting to know the Potters intrigued her more than she cared to admit.

"As I'm not sure how to do that yet—time continuums are terribly tricky—it would be a shame for you girls to miss classes. Let us enroll you for the time being and I'm sure Gryffindor would be more than pleased to accommodate celebrities such as yourselves." He retrieved a quill and roll of parchment to begin a letter. "Tell me, Miss Granger, how are your classes at Hogwarts in the modern day?"

She cleared her throat. "I miss my third year. I had the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in my third year."

"The teacher this year doesn't even compare," Ginny laughed. "I'm itching to have a practical. I don't know how you're going to pass your O.W.L.s, Hermione."

"That's why we've got the DA, so we can practice." She bit her lip and glanced at Dumbledore, realizing she may have said too much. He feigned total absorption in his writing. "What should we do now, sir?"

He looked up and smiled. "I imagine Poppy is trying to restrain herself from storming in here and demanding I let you return to your beds."

"The Hospital Wing, it is," Ginny replied. "Maybe James will still be there."

"And if he is?" Hermione asked, letting those four words carry the weight of everything they knew about the future.

"We introduce ourselves," Ginny said firmly. "Nothing more. Trust me, Herm, I am not about to tell that boy what his future holds." A sudden thought stopped her as the girls headed for the door. "Professor, could you tell me where I might find Arthur and Molly Weasley?"

A smile tickled the old man's lips. "Professor Weasley and his family currently reside in Hogsmeade."

Hermione tried not to stare. "Pro—Professor Weasley? What does he teach?"

"Muggle Studies," Ginny replied before Dumbledore could. "If Dad taught anything it would be Muggle Studies." A quick nod from Dumbledore was all the assurance the girls needed. Hermione dragged her friend back to the Hospital Wing with promises of finding her parents later.

"There you girls are. I nearly went down to give Dumbledore a piece of my mind. What was he thinking, and after you just woke up!" Madame Pomfrey fussed over them to the point of drawing the blankets so tight around Hermione she thought she would suffocate. "You girls need to stay here until you are fit to be moving about the castle."

As soon as the nurse left, Ginny fell into a fit of giggles. "She hasn't changed a bit!"

Suddenly, the girls realized they weren't alone. Four curious pairs of eyes watched them from across the room. One of the boys sat on a bed, apparently recovering from some mysterious malady. The other three sat around his bed, paused in the middle of a game of Exploding Snap.

James Potter pulled a worn parchment from his robes, which Hermione vaguely recognized from her travels with Harry. All four boys pulled chairs around Hermione and Ginny's beds, accusing looks on their faces.

"You appeared out of thin air," James announced.

"We know that already," Ginny smarted back.

"Settle down, Ginger," a boy with black eyes and unruly curls laughed. _Sirius_. He looked so different in the modern day, worn and worried, but here he was carefree.

"I divine that your name is . . . Ginevra Weasley," James said, placing a hand to his head and feigning concentration. Ginny seemed taken aback, but Hermione knew better than to fall for his tricks.

"Divination? That's what you're going for? Pretending to be a psychic? Come on, James, leave the crackpot magic to Trelawney," she rebuked.

The boys looked eleven levels of stunned at Hermione's comment. One, a pasty teen with gold flecks in his already aging eyes, moved quickly from stunned to delighted. "She called you out on that one, James! You can't use that trick on her." Remus offered Hermione a brighter smile than she'd ever seen in the two and a half years she knew him.

"But he can still use it on every other student in this school," the final boy, Peter, mentioned. "Lily still hasn't figured out how he always knows where to find her."

The creation of the Marauders' Map started to make sense to Hermione. Aside from help sneaking around the quiet corridors of Hogwarts at midnight, the Map would provide exact locations of every student, including James's someday wife. She smiled and shook her head at the thoughts.

James looked like he'd had the wind knocked out of him. "How do you know—?"

"She's the smartest witch you'll ever meet," Ginny cut in before Hermione could fathom a response. "Smarter than you lot, for sure."

Sirius took the comment as a challenge. "We're smart! Brightest in our year."

"Compared to who? Mulciber?" Remus retorted.

"Definitely not compared to Lily," Peter added.

The comments hardly seemed to faze the boy. "Ginevra—"

"It's Ginny," she snapped. "Call me Ginevra again and I'll knock you flat with hexes you've never heard of."

An expression of absolute infatuation crossed Sirius's face. Remus groaned into his palm. "Oh, no. Padfoot. . . ." he warned.

"_Ginevra_!" Sirius teased and ducked out of the way as Ginny whipped her wand from the side table.

"Sirius Black, I will hex your nose off!" she threatened.

He unwisely sat up out of surprise. Ginny threw one of her signature Bat-Bogey Hexes and the boy stumbled backwards, battling the slimy wings on his face. His friends roared with laughter, and even Ginny smiled for a brief moment. Hermione could not believe Ginny hexed Harry's godfather without so much as a second thought—then she realized he wasn't Harry's godfather yet.

"How did you do that?" James asked, in utter awe of the youngest Weasley. "Sirius and I have been working on a hex to do just that for months!"

Ginny bit her lip and grinned. "I believe that's a secret for right now. Until Hermione and I can figure out exactly what we can tell you." She gave the other girl a significant look.

The battle in Hermione's head had been raging for nearly an hour. She was shocked how at ease she felt around the Marauders, but she knew that saying the wrong thing—giving away too much—could screw up the future. "My head is pounding," she mumbled and fell back against her pillow. The dramatic move made her blush as she realized the boys—_men—_were still watching.

"Lily!" came a delighted squeal. Hermione opened an eye to reassure herself it couldn't possibly have been Harry's father that let out the noise. James bounced across the room, quickly relieving Lily Evans of several books. "Who are these for? You know Sirius doesn't study when he's in the Hospital Wing."

Lily dropped a pile of books next to Ginny, completely ignoring James's attempt at conversation. "You're the fourth year, right?" Ginny nodded. "I'm Lily Evans. Fifth year, Gryffindor."

"Ginny Weasley," the displaced redhead replied. "Are these my books?"

"Dumbledore borrowed these from the library until he can send for complete sets from Flourish and Blotts." Lily's green eyes flamed with curiosity, but Hermione saw her bite her lip. "The other books go to the fifth year, Potter," she said coldly.

James dropped the books next to Hermione and shuffled through the pile. "There are a lot of Defense Against the Dark Arts books in here, Evans. Are you sure you got the right books?" Lily glowered at him.

Hermione remembered that she and Ginny had mentioned to Dumbledore that their Defense classes had been less than stellar in the last year. "Those are the right books," Hermione assured him. "Where Gin and I are from, our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is more the 'Defense Against Practical Learning' sort." She saw Remus hold back a grin while the others didn't find the jibe so humorous.

The doors to the Hospital Wing crashed open and a man in an orange robe and pointed hat that clashed horribly with his ginger hair looked around in a panic. The Marauders and Lily stopped in their places, clearly as taken aback as Hermione and Ginny.

"Dad?" Ginny shrieked.


	4. The Someday Professor

**Disclaimer: **If I owned HP, I would have posted 200 fan fictions on the day FF created a HP section. I have to wait for my own novels to be published before I can do that.

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**A/N: **It appears the flu magicked itself into a cold, so I may be back at the writing desk soon. On to today's order of business . . . With how I plan this story to go, one of three things will happen: [1] The chapters will become increasingly longer; [2] There will be 3 sequels; [3] This story will end up with a bajillion chapters. Please leave a comment with your opinion as to how I should proceed. And now for your regularly scheduled programming. . . .

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**CHAPTER FOUR: The Someday Professor**

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Thankfully, at the same time Ginny foolishly shouted, "Dad?" the Marauders had broken from their silence and babbled some confused form of, "Professor Weasley?"

The brightly dressed professor moved awkwardly towards the crowd of teens. "Have any of you seen. . . ." He trailed off, lost in the stare of the youngest redhead. "You. You must be the Weasley. How odd, you seem so familiar to me."

Ginny turned away, clearly uncomfortable. "Professor Weasley, I—"

"Out! Everyone out! You too, Professor. There are far too many people in this Hospital Wing. How do you expect people to heal if they're concentrating on socializing?" Madame Pomfrey shooed everyone from the ward, the befuddled professor included, and turned back to her three patients. Actually, to her two patients. "Where is Mr. Black?"

Ginny smiled innocently. "I haven't seen him for awhile, Madame Pomfrey."

Hermione had watched Sirius as he fought the hex, only to make it worse. "I think he disappeared into the loo," she said, attempting to be helpful.

Madame Pomfrey dragged him out of the bathroom, still hexed and looking all the worse for it. "What in heaven's name happened?"

Sirius growled and hid beneath his sheets, not allowing the nurse to examine the bat wings. "I just need sleep."

"Not even beauty sleep is going to help you," Ginny smarted. Madame Pomfrey gave a severe look that made the girl whither.

"Do you know the counter-hex, Miss Weasley?"

Reluctantly, Ginny picked up her wand. "Let me see your face, Sirius."

"No."

Hermione groaned. "Let her see your face. She's not going to do anything with Madame Pomfrey standing right here." Ginny gave a smirk that said, _You want to bet?_ Hermione leveled a glare to rival the best of Madame Pomfrey's.

"Fine, I promise to turn him back to normal. That's almost a worse punishment, anyway." She grinned as Sirius let out a wounded yelp at the insult. After she administered the counter-hex, Ginny rolled onto her side, away from Sirius. He mimicked her, and the two stayed painfully silent. Hermione sighed and opened one of the Defense Against the Dark Arts books.

One of the doors to the Hospital Wing opened with skilled caution. Hermione, not really in the mood to read with her mind going a million kilometers an hour, noticed the movement over the top of her book. The culprit slinked through the ward, clearly hoping he went unnoticed. Her eyes drifted with the sound, and rested on a chair that moved slightly near Sirius's bed.

"James. Lose the Invisibility Cloak, you aren't fooling anyone," she commanded, already exasperated by the amount of trouble the boys (and Ginny) had cooked up in less than a day.

The Cloak fell away, but it wasn't James that sat in the chair. Hermione bit her lip and looked away. "Profess—I mean Lu—Remus."

He bundled up the Cloak and walked over to Hermione, eyeing her with certain suspicion. She attempted to block him from sight by delving back into the book, but when she glanced up, he still stood there. Curiosity was marred by distrust and his eyes flashed for a moment. "Who are you?" he demanded.

She broke eye contact, well aware what the look in his eye meant. She'd seen it time and time again when he argued with Snape or the moment he finally laid eyes on Peter Pettigrew after years of believing him dead. "I'm just a student," she whimpered. She cursed the weakness of her voice. She cursed her need to show off and prove to the Marauders she was smarter than them, that she already knew everything about them. If only she hadn't made the comment about the Cloak.

Remus scoffed. "Normal students don't fall out of the sky and sleep straight through two days."

"Maybe I've been here the whole time and you never noticed me."

He blinked and a light red tinged his throat. "I don't think that's possible," he responded gruffly.

"Why not?" she challenged. Maybe if she could convince him that she'd been a student at Hogwarts since his first year, he would stop questioning her.

"McGonagall already told us that you and the Weasley are transfer students. You're just now joining Gryffindor."

_Actually, I joined Gryffindor four and a half years ago . . . in the future_. Her latent headache began to resurface. "I think you'll find that I fit in well there."

Remus pulled up a chair and tossed the Invisibility Cloak to the ground. "I think you and the Weasley should be Sorted. You aren't a real Gryffindor unless you're Sorted into Gryffindor."

Hermione felt a smile tugging at her lips. "I never picked you for the House pride sort."

"Of course I'm the House pride sort. What's the point of having Houses if there's no healthy competition?" He watched her intently, as if daring her to respond.

She sidestepped the question, knowing full well that he probably couldn't fathom the animosity between modern-day Slytherin and Gryffindor. "What are you reading?" She nodded to the book cast on top of the discarded Invisibility Cloak.

"Oh, nothing, really. It's just _Hogwarts, A History_. I've read it so many times the pages are falling out."

Hermione felt her jaw fall loose. "You've read _Hogwarts, A History_? I've read it at least eight times."

"No way! I can't even get these slackers to open something more intelligent than a picture book."

"My friends made fun of me for reading it, but it provides so much invaluable information about Hogwarts. " She thought back over the comment. _Made fun of me? Will make fun of me?_

Remus looked utterly delighted in spite of his obvious distrust in the girl. Hermione fell into an easy conversation with him about the book and other books they had both read, though she was careful not to mention any that had yet to be published.

The evening wound down and Hermione felt her eyes drooping. "How did Sirius end up in the Hospital Wing?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

The boy paled immediately. "He—he scraped up his leg."

Not one to miss the subtle changes in her future professor's expression, Hermione knew Remus was lying. She also had the sneaking suspicion that Sirius had recently completed his transformation into an Animagus. "That's too bad," she empathized. "Must have been a bad scrape to land him in the Hospital Wing this long."

She knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say. Remus's eyes broke from hers as guilt overshadowed his face. "It was nothing major," he said, trying to convince himself that was the truth.

"Remus. . . ."

The chair scraped against the floor as Remus stood without a word. He gathered the Invisibility Cloak and threw it on. Hermione heard him walk softly across the floor. The door opened seemingly of its own accord and fell shut, with barely a sound.

Cursing to herself, Hermione rolled onto her side, determined to sleep off the rest of the effects of the potion. A worn book sat on the bedside table, a page sticking out just a hair too far. Hermione took the book from the table and flipped through it. "You weren't kidding about how many times you've read this," she whispered to her absent companion.

The rushed bustle of the nurse's feet prompted Hermione to shove the book beneath her pillow and pretend to be sleeping. It was no use. Madame Pomfrey demanded she "wake" to take a Sleeping Potion. Before Hermione could return to _Hogwarts, A History_, she felt the potion take effect and she slipped into a dreamless sleep.

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**A/N: **Remember to comment on how you want to see this fanfic formatted in the future. Also, if you have suggestions or if you've seen a mistake, let me know. Critical reviews are welcomed.

A well-deserved shout out to **rockrose**. Thank you for the Harry Potter Wiki suggestion. The website has been unbelievably helpful with finding oddly placed loopholes, even if it refers to Kingsley Shacklebolt as the Minister _**for**_ Magic.


	5. Welcome to Hogwarts

**Disclaimer:** Still not JK Rowling.

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**A/N:** 6 reviews on 4 chapters! I'm loving it! I am going to take the weekend off of updating, since I'm still sick and I'm falling behind in my writing schedule. I have a novel to edit and queries to attack literary agents with, but have no fear-I _will_ make time to write for you. Again, if anyone has suggestions/comments/concerns, feel free to review. You are also welcome to PM me. One final note: if anyone can think of a better summary for the front page, let me know. I think I'm losing out on readers because it stinks (or maybe my author's notes are too long).

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**CHAPTER FIVE: Welcome to Hogwarts**

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Hermione slipped into Potions class a few minutes late, having been confused as to where the classroom was. The professor, a jolly man named Horace Slughorn, waved her into the room and paused to welcome her to class.

"Miss Granger! It is a delight to meet you! Has everyone in here met Miss Granger?"

Hermione shrunk away from the stares of the Slytherins and made her way to an empty table. "Thank you, Professor," she said nervously.

Hermione had been stunned to learn that her first day of classes would be the last day of September. When she left 1996, it had been halfway through April. For some reason, the time travel potion hadn't sent her an exact number of years, and she couldn't figure it out. Even with the natural fluctuations in year-length, six and a half months were a bit much.

On the bright side, she reasoned, she would have a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher worth his salt.

"Miss Granger? Do you know?"

She was pulled from her thoughts, caught off-guard by the question. "I'm sorry, sir. Do I know what?"

"The most common ingredient in most beauty potions." Slughorn gave her an encouraging smile.

"Oil of newt." The professor opened his mouth to congratulate her, but she kept talking. "The newt has to be steamed for six hours at precisely 100 degrees Celsius before the oil can be extracted, or else the potion will have adverse effects. Most of the effects include boils on the drinker's legs and accelerated hair growth."

Slughorn gaped at her, as did a Slytherin/Gryffindor pair near the front of the room. "How do you know that?"

She ransacked her mind, trying to remember what year her source had been published. Early seventies? "Professor Sna—ckle had my class at my . . . _former_ school do a paper on the different uses for newts and I found it in my research."

"Professor Snackle, you say? What institution did you attend before Hogwarts?"

"Milton Academy, sir." _Milton Primary Academy_, her mind whispered. No one would possibly check up on her story, so why worry?

"If I could see you after class, Miss Granger?" Slughorn sounded pleased and continued with the lesson.

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"Milton Academy, my foot," Remus announced. He opened a letter and threw it triumphantly on a table in the Common Room. His friends paid him no mind, thoroughly engrossed in a discussion. "James, Sirius! Are you listening at all?" When they didn't respond, he closed his eyes and pinched his nose. "Peter is heading off to raid the kitchens."

Sirius perked up. "Kitchens? When do we leave?"

"You're listening to me now?"

"I'm always listening to you, Moony. When are we raiding the kitchens?"

"_Granger_. She didn't attend Milton Academy before Hogwarts." He waited for the news to impact his friends. If they were at all intrigued, they hid it well. "Don't you guys get it? She _lied_."

"Come on, Moony. We've been lying about things since first year but you still love us."

"Padfoot's right," James sighed. "Who cares if she lied?"

"You aren't listening to me. Milton Academy is a private _Muggle_ school. It's a primary school, at that. There's no way she learned about newts from a Professor 'Snackle' at a Muggle primary school." He tried to emphasize the importance of his discovery by glaring rather severely at his friends.

James groaned. "Fine. What do we know about this girl?"

"She and her friend showed up on the Map with no warning a week ago. When we found them, they were unconscious. They both claim to be Gryffindors. They knew who James was before he was ever introduced to them. Oh, and Granger knows about the Invisibility Cloak."

This finally caught James's undivided attention. "She knows about the Cloak? What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Remus protested. "I went to read in the Hospital Wing, and when I sat down, she said, '_James, you aren't fooling anyone with the Invisibility Cloak_,' or something like that."

"She knows it's mine?" the bespeckled boy demanded.

"She was surprised to see me with it, so I think she knows it's yours."

James swore curses that made Sirius check over his shoulder. "Calm down, mate. We can handle this," Sirius assured him. "She's just some random witch."

"Yeah, one who might try to kill us in our sleep or steal our manhood!" James's hair seemed to fly into a more unruly state than usual.

"You're a man?" an infuriated redhead growled as she passed.

"Evans, where are we going to go on our date?" James shouted across the Common Room, promptly distracted by Lily's appearance.

"Go to hell, Potter," she called back, her voice adopting a sarcastic sweet tone. She disappeared up the steps to the girls' dormitories.

A grin broke out over James's face. "I think she's warming up to me."

Remus tapped the creased parchment impatiently. "Back to business," he commanded. "We need to get Granger and her friend out of here."

"I don't know. I kind of like Ginevra," Sirius mused. A pair of sick-colored bat wings sprouted from his nostrils to attack his face, but he seemed unfazed by the change.

"Um . . . Sirius?"

"Don't worry. It happens every time I say 'Ginevra.' If I say 'Ginny,' the wings disappear." Just as he said, the wings disappeared as he ended the hex. He pulled out a handkerchief to wipe away the residual mucus. "Isn't she brilliant? I have to find out how she did it."

Peter joined the group with an armful of pastries to share. "What's going on?"

"Sirius is dreaming about the girl who hexed her own name, James is thinking about Lily, and I'm trying to get them to concentrate on the _important_ matter at hand." Remus shoved the parchment at Peter, thankful that at least one person in the group would listen.

"Milton Academy is a Muggle school? So what?"

The prefect could not believe his ears. "So what? _So_ _what_? It's a Muggle primary school, not a wizarding school like she told Slughorn!"

"Maybe she's a Muggleborn."

That possibility had not actually crossed Remus's mind. He quickly reasoned that she still wouldn't have learned the magical capabilities of a newt in the school. "She—"

Peter cut his friend off with a quick jab to the ribcage. "Hi, Hermione."

The studious girl looked up from the stack of books in her arms. "Hi, Peter." She offered a half-hearted smile before she ran up the steps into the girls' dormitories to join Lily.

The boys stared after her for long moment. "I don't trust her," Sirius said, breaking the silence.

"Thank you!" Remus exclaimed. "Finally, someone who—"

"Who checks that many books out of the library at once? It's sinister to study that much." James gave his best friend an enthusiastic nod. Remus growled and slunk out of the Common Room, determined to make _someone_ see that something wasn't right with the new girls.

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**A/N: **Thoughts? Critical reviews welcome!


	6. The Sorting Hat

**Disclaimer:** Pretty sure JK Rowling wouldn't be caught rocking the hairdo I've got at the moment. Then again, I'm pretty sure _I_ wouldn't be caught rocking this hairdo.

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A/N**: Sorry this one is a few hours later than usual. I think I'm finally over whatever bug I had just in time for school to start back up. I'll do my best to keep to a regular schedule-you guys are the important ones. (: And I have to say, I was thrilled with the review turnout on this last chapter. You guys all rock. In other news, looks like I'm sticking with the relatively short chapters. I'll be finishing up chapter 8 tomorrow, so you'll have steady updates at least through Wednesday!

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**CHAPTER SIX: The Sorting Hat

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"As you all know, we had two students transfer to Hogwarts a few weeks ago."

The glint in Dumbledore's eye made Hermione nervous as she sat at the Gryffindor table waiting for the meal to begin. She was starved as she'd missed both of the earlier meals to catch up on her studies.

"Some of your fellow students have pointed out that these students didn't go through one of the key rituals we have here at Hogwarts, and so they may not feel like _real_ Hogwarts students until they are properly Sorted."

Hermione glanced down the table and saw Remus smirk, pleased with himself. "Bloody Lupin," she groaned.

Ginny looked surprised. "You think Lupin had something to do with this?"

"Not something. Everything. If I weren't a prefect, I'd wring his neck."

"You _aren't_ a prefect anymore, 'Mione."

Her eyes lit up at the realization. "I never thought I'd say this, but that may be the best news I've had since this nightmare began. Do you think I'd get in trouble for poisoning his chocolate?"

The redhead laughed quietly. "Careful, Hermione. You're beginning to sound like the Marauders."

"Miss Granger, Miss Weasley. Care to join me up on the stage?" Dumbledore's wizened face cracked a smile as the girls groaned and made their way to the stage.

Ginny was placed on the stool first. Hermione guessed Remus had something to do with that, too. He wanted to see her squirm as the Sorting Hat inevitably called out Ginny on whatever scheme they had going. It was Hermione's turn to smirk when the Sorting Hat did what it always did with Weasleys—barely came in contact with her head and shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" Hermione chanced a glance at Remus, whose face was suddenly paler.

She took a deep breath and replaced Ginny on the stool. Dumbledore smiled apologetically as he put the Hat on her head.

_Well, well, what do we have here? Do I sense that you've been Sorted before?_ the Hat asked her.

_That depends on how you define "before,"_ Hermione replied. She had no qualms about confiding in the Hat; after all, it was a hat.

_You have a lot of secrets, Miss Granger, ones you're afraid to tell. You're intelligent enough to keep them to yourself, making you perfect for Ravenclaw. You have to be careful not to let your true colors show, which may slot you for Slytherin—but you are a Muggleborn, _the Hat noted.

She snorted. _Not yet, I'm not._

_I can already sense with which House your loyalty lies, but it lies there for reasons far into the future. Are you brave, Miss Granger?_

_I'm not a coward,_ she answered.

_That is certain. Well, Miss Granger, will I have the pleasure of Sorting you again someday?_

_I certainly hope so._

Hermione could have sworn the Hat grinned as it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" to the students. Dumbledore removed it from her head as her new fellows clapped politely, most wondering what the point was of Sorting two students already in their proper House.

"Let us eat," the headmaster said, and the tables became laden with food.

Hermione walked down to the Gryffindor table, resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at Remus. In all of her time at Hogwarts, no Gryffindor had irritated her as much as the fifteen-year-old version Remus Lupin. Why couldn't he accept that sometimes there was no explanation for the odd things that happened around the castle?

Her overly logical mind answered that question before she could feel properly justified in her irritation. Even in a place as strange as Hogwarts, there was _always_ an explanation.

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"How did you do it?" Remus demanded, approaching Hermione and Ginny in the Common Room after dinner. The younger girl readied her wand in case Hermione gave her the okay to jinx the prefect.

"How did I do what?" Hermione asked, making a marked effort to keep her voice even.

"Convince the Sorting Hat to put you in Gryffindor! Did you Confund it? I bet you did—you used a Confundus Charm on the Sorting Hat!"

"I. Did. NOT!" she shouted. Her books flew to the floor as she jumped to her feet. "Look, Lupin, I'm no happier with this situation than you are. Do you think I wanted to drop out of the sky in an unconscious haze to spend the next three weeks being sneered at by you? I want to go home, but I can't get there so for now I am making the best of my situation." She paused to take in an angry breath. Remus glared, preparing to yell back. "Don't talk to me, Lupin!" she shrieked. Wand at the ready, she levitated her homework and ran out of the Common Room.

Ginny giggled from her armchair. "Wow. She usually reserves yelling like that for my brother."

Remus huffed and marched over to his friends, who were sitting in uncharacteristic silence at one of the study tables, paused in the middle of Wizard Chess. "Say it," he mumbled.

Sirius kicked his feet onto the table, a self-satisfied grin on his face. "Usually it's Prongs and me who chase angry girls out of the Common Room. It's good to see you coming around, Moony."

"You need to get to work, Peter," James chuckled. "You don't have a single girl angry with you right now."

The youngest boy pinked. "Well . . . actually, I—"

"Wasn't Lily yelling at you earlier?" Remus asked.

James turned accusingly to Peter. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing!" Peter squeaked. "I—I said something about Snape and she snapped at me."

Remus turned away, unable to watch the look that flashed across James's face every time Severus and Lily's friendship came up. Some mixture of hatred and heartbreak, which seemed to cement James's desire for the brilliant Muggleborn, had become his default response sometime in their third year. As quickly as it came, the look disappeared and James returned a good natured grin.

"I claimed Evans's temper years ago, mate. Try again, on someone else's girl." His eyes said he wasn't as jolly as he seemed, but it had nothing to do with Peter's "claim." After a moment, James excused himself from the game and wandered out through the portrait hole.

"Something's got to be done about Snivellus," Sirius whispered. "Prongs thinks Lily's falling for him."

Remus gaped at Sirius. "You can't be serious."

"I am always Sirius," the boy replied with a grim smile. Remus and Peter rolled their eyes. "We need to do something, though, mates. If Lily is falling in love with that slimy git, James will probably kill him. And while I'm not entirely opposed to chopping up the Future Death Eaters Club, I don't fancy visiting my best mate in Azkaban."

"What do you think we should do?" Peter asked, his eyes alight with eagerness.

Remus cleared his throat. "Nothing. Anything that Sirius comes up with will probably land _him_ in Azkaban long before James manages to lay a wand on Snape."

"Go rain on someone else's Quidditch match, would you, Moony?" Sirius growled. He turned back to Peter, clearly dismissing the other boy. Remus took the hint and meandered back to the center of the Common Room.

The Weasley girl sat alone, dutifully doing her homework. Not curious, per se, but rather bored, Remus peered over her shoulder. She scribbled on the parchment, the top right corner clearly dated and beneath the date, a number. A quick calculation lent Remus to believe it was the number of days since she and Hermione "transferred" to Hogwarts.

"If you keep reading, I'll have to hex you," she said with all the politeness of a Bludger. Her quill continued to scratch at the parchment, but the threat felt very real.

"How did you know I was here?"

"You shuffle your feet when you're trying to be quiet. That's why Hermione was able to find you in the Hospital Wing. Besides, I spent fourteen years with six older brothers. I've developed a sixth sense for people reading my private business over my shoulder." Her tone was possibly more dangerous than her earlier threat to hex him. To save his dignity—and perhaps his normal-sized bogies—Remus decided to take a trip to his dormitory to check over his homework.

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A/N:** Any suggestions? Critical reviews are welcome.


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